


An Ocean of Words

by UM1



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Feelings, Internal Monologue, M/M, Memories, Nostalgia, Post-Break Up, Self-Reflection, So many metaphors oh my god, Totally based on ASWE, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28843518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UM1/pseuds/UM1
Summary: Youngjo is alone at the viewpoint of the cliff, located at the beach he loves and treasures the most, a paradise of memories for him. Seeing the sun making his hair shine and listening to the waves whispering to him, he watches as the beautiful details of the landscape become a catalyzer for faint memories to come back and the inner conflict about his feelings to become stronger.Besides, on those moments of loneliness with nature, he feels like he isn't truly by himself.
Relationships: Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Yeo Hwanwoong
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	An Ocean of Words

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for coming in! Hope you have a good read!
> 
> There's one reason why I wrote this.  
> While usually people jam to "A Song Written Easily", to me it had some sort of deep meaning and bittersweet feeling I was never able to properly describe in an easy way. So I wrote this to better explain what the song really means to me.

For a moment, it seemed the sun wanted to tell how beautiful Youngjo’s hair looked. It gave the strands of hair a warm glow and sparkles coming from the remnants of salt on his curls, formed after a short relaxing tour through the sea waters. Youngjo himself appreciated the sun’s compliments, observing how the brown hair over his eyes was shining a bright yellow.

He was alone at the viewpoint on the cliff, his crossed arms laying on the wooden fence. After getting distracted with his hair dancing with the breeze and the light, he got back to looking down at the waves washing the sand he was laying on some moments ago. He wasn’t truly by himself on that moment, he thought. The sun was complimenting him after all. But, as nice as the star tried to be, the spectacle of yellow glitters floating around his eyes didn’t entertain his heart. And, once the sea tried to speak louder to rightfully assert its presence, then the tormenting feeling washed over him completely.

Standing on warm yellow rocks, facing turquoise waters and the most calming of landscapes, Youngjo couldn’t focus on the beauty of it all. Rather, he could, but every little detail of nature’s grace reminded him of his own sadness. He thought he had overcome those feelings over time, as his memories too started to fade away. But, once he could watch the sunlight making his skin glow warmer, hear seagulls in the distance, taste the salt left on his lips, feel the cold sea water, smell the dusty fragrance of the sand, his senses would bring back lost episodes, piece by piece. Like that, even alone but one with nature, there was someone else beside him.

“Hwanwoong”, Youngjo mouthed. It had been a long time since he called that name, and the owner of it wasn’t actually there to respond. He was only inside Youngjo’s mind, like he once was on that cliff, beside him, him too with his arms crossed over the wooden fence. However, his blonde hairs would shine brighter, making him look even more like an ethereal being who emerged from the unreachable deep waters filled with darkness to shine with the sunlight, out of his element, because it felt almost against the laws of nature for Hwanwoong to look that gorgeous under the natural light which shines upon any ordinary individual, or for Youngjo to even be allowed to be standing beside him, or having the other’s head laying on his humble shoulder.

Around that time, when Youngjo would make mystical metaphors like that in his head while staring at the other’s beauty, Hwanwoong would ask about how much longer they would be listening to the waves, already bored, and Youngjo would laugh. But this time, he wasn’t there to ask, so he didn’t laugh. In the end, it was all only a replay of Youngjo’s weak memory, made stronger by a sudden gift from nature.

Youngjo understood he couldn’t have Hwanwoong anymore. After many trips to the same beach, his own favourite, a remembrance-filled scenario, they decided to part ways in good terms. It was only natural for them, once they realized there’d be too much physical distance existing between the two once they decided to chase their own dreams. They wouldn’t be able to stand each other’s absence. The idea that fate told them they weren’t meant for each other would consume their souls with each passing day, so they decided to part from each other before they could even have a taste of that pain. Hwanwoong went back to the dark waters and Youngjo kept being nostalgic by the shore, every once in a while feeling the sea covering his feet, maybe with the same water that once Hwanwoong swam in.

He understood he couldn’t have him, so he tried to clean the sand out of his feet, as they started to get itchy. The sand under his soles got easily shaken off, however, the grains which were still stuck on his legs from earlier when he was laying on the sand, could hardly be brushed off without the help of some cleaning water. So he rubbed his skin over and over, using more strength, giving up once he felt the taste of some salty water on his already salty lips. They were tears which cleaned his eyes.

There was one thing he didn’t understand. The agonizing feeling that he couldn’t brush off, that the waves tried to remind him of, making his ears ring as if he was hearing disturbing whispers that felt like they were meant to be heard and felt. Like on these last sentences, words came easy inside Youngjo’s head to try to describe what his heart felt, however, he couldn’t define it with only one word. A bunch of letters which would make his heart feel understood easily. But there was no word he knew of which could put his soul at ease.

Youngjo cleaned the tears out of his cloudy eyes to better look at the immensity of the never-ending ocean, spreading so far it seemed to come together with the clear blue sky. However, even though it seemed endless, and no matter how many waves it divided itself in, there was only word for it. It was the ocean. Everybody knew it was, and no one questioned it. One day someone gave it that name, and from then on there was no need to find a new one. And everyone could agree that the word belonged to the water. The ocean is the ocean.

Hearing the melodies of the ocean, still haunting, he wondered if the disturbance he felt was like what happened in so many songs, books or films. He wondered if the authors were writing thousands of lines to discover the right word they’re looking for, but just couldn’t find it. Maybe that was the reason behind so many works around the same feelings and sensations, so hard to find a single defining word for. He also thought about the possibility that finding the certain word could be easier in other languages which might have it. Or were his own feelings universally painful?

At that point, his throat clenched because of the fact he could barely understand himself anymore. Feelings and things could be felt differently by each individual anyways, so how could one even agree on a name? While the sea waves meant happiness for the children playing at the beach, for Youngjo, what did they mean, really? He felt happiness, he felt melancholy, he felt frustration, all at once. The feeling he wanted to define meant too many things which could be easily written on paper, but never possible to contain in only one word.

And upon realizing that, upon watching as the tide grew and the waves changed, the discomfort of not finding belonging or explanation in a piece of clear language, turned into the comfort of knowing that his feelings were ever-changing. Perhaps only one word would be a jail to the soul. The ocean cannot be more than the ocean. Then it would have a different name. But a feeling can have more than one describing sentence. And he didn’t want to put his own feelings captive.

He wanted to be able to remember Hwanwoong from time to time. The undefinable feeling that they shared and engraved in their memories as what they call love. But even the word love wasn’t very accurate, because then came the longing, and the sadness, and the tears that got colder on Youngjo’s cheeks as the northern wind started blowing.

They didn’t want to feel the pain of distance, but he was feeling it anyways. He understood he couldn’t have Hwanwoong anymore, but it was much more hurtful to accept it. He couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of looking at the same sea again with him, perhaps with different waves from today, maybe with the water a bit clearer. He could look at his smiley eyes, hungry for fun times, his sweet thin lips, and could touch his skin sparkled with sea salt once they’d get home after a day at the beach, on those nights in which it was too hot for bedsheets or for each other’s bodies, which were laying down almost naked on the same bed. Those were times they joined their pinkies together to never forget, even though it was inevitable. Maybe it was for that reason that they promised to remember.

If those times ever came back, if he could ever make Hwanwoong’s heart and his own flutter together again, he’d look down at the sea, and his heart would feel different, maybe a bit more at rest, with no need to question anything. If it wasn’t for the endless ocean of feelings, and the sunlit hairs blocking his vision, perhaps he wouldn’t have wondered so much. In between all the tears falling down, some in free fall until they met the waves down the cliff, he felt some happiness for that. For remembering sensations and feeling change. For knowing Hwanwoong was still with him. Within him.

With the sun more tilted towards the horizon compared to when he arrived at the spot, the monologue of unanswered questions continued. Could Hwanwoong, by some ancient superstition, like burning red ears or sneezes, realize Youngjo was thinking about him? Did Hwanwoong’s feelings ever get so complicated he couldn’t find the words?

_Did Hwanwoong keep the promise to remember him?_

Youngjo could ask the sea all the questions he wanted, it wasn’t like it could give a word in a language he could understand. But, perhaps, it could take his blended fallen tears and heartfelt interrogations with the tides until wherever Hwanwoong could be watching the sea. If he ever felt like listening to the endless secrets the waves keep, that was.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope it made your day a bit better (though this was angst, huh...)  
> Comments are very much appreciated!
> 
> If you wanna go anon: [CC](https://curiouscat.qa/neviumi)


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